


If You’re Going Through Hell

by Aramirandme81



Series: Song Fic's [2]
Category: The Almighty Johnsons
Genre: Domestic Violence, Dysfunctional Family, Hell, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Mental Anguish, Song Lyrics, Songfic, Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-20
Updated: 2014-02-20
Packaged: 2018-01-13 04:31:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,033
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1212751
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aramirandme81/pseuds/Aramirandme81
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Second song challenge.<br/>Song: If You’re Going Through Hell - Rodney Atkins.<br/>Character: Anders.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Anders knows what it’s like going through hell, he just calls it living usually.</p>
            </blockquote>





	If You’re Going Through Hell

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Elenhin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elenhin/gifts).



> For Elenhin. Because you are a lovely, talented, giving, quirky, crazy, dwarf person and I want you to know I like you just like that.

_****_

_Well you know those times_   
_When you feel like there's a sign there on your back_   
_Says I don't mind if ya kick me_   
_Seems like everybody has_   
_Things go from bad to worse_   
_You'd think they can't get worse than that_   
_And then they do_

 

He never knew what would set dad off, lord knows the man had lose fists.

Mom didn’t need a reason to yell and scold, she did it just to have something to do it seemed.

School was hell and no one stood up for him when they kicked him and tried to hold him down, but he’s too smart for them to keep him there for long.

He gets up and he keeps going.

Dad shoots through, mom dies, Mike moves back but he’s never home, so he’s the de facto parent to his younger siblings.

He can do it he’s through crying for someone who won’t come.

 Can’t get worse right?

Course it can.

Mike comes back after losing his friend, or nearly losing him. Not enough to grieve him but enough to ruin everything.

Mike fall’s for Val and moves them all to Auckland.

Val moves in and Anders wants to scream.

 

_You step off the straight and narrow_   
_And you don't know where you are_   
_Use the needle of your compass_   
_To sew up your broken heart_   
_Ask directions from a genie_   
_In a bottle of Jim Beam_   
_And she lies to you_   
_That's when you learn the truth_

 

He turns twenty one, he becomes a god.

That’s right a God. Capital G baby.

Of fucking poetry no less. That’s funny that, ‘fucking poetry’.

Why? Because he can use his poetry to fuck with people, their minds and their bodies.

He’s drunk on beer and Jim Beam, he’s high on life and being a God and hell he’s still high on being hit by a freaking lightning bolt, even if his jacket did catch fire and burn him pretty badly.

So when Val smiles that more than half flirtatious smile at him when they pass in the hallway he smiles back and ask her why they haven’t fucked?

Mike throws him out on his ear that night and Anders swears never to listen to Bragi when he’s drunk…

_If you're going through hell_   
_Keep on going, don't slow down_   
_If you're scared, don't show it_   
_You might get out_   
_Before the devil even knows you're there_

_***_

_Well I been deep down in that darkness_   
_I been down to my last match_   
_Felt a hundred different demons_   
_Breathing fire down my back_   
_And I knew that if I stumbled_   
_I'd fall right into the trap that they were laying, yeah_

 

He manages somehow, mostly with Bragi’s help and his own inborn stubbornness and tenacity, he manages to get the money for the last semesters all by himself, waiting tables, doing dishes, newspaper rounds, tutoring, anything that can make him money he does. As long as it doesn’t break his own moral code he does anything.

Anything…

 

He lives in a glorified cupboard where the only furniture is a slightly wonky desk chair he’s rescued from the street and one of those bunk beds with a desk below where one of the legs has nearly broken and now has to be propped up by a two pieces of broomsticks he’s tied around it like a splint on a broken leg in the old westerns. It looks unstable, but he’s skinny and once he hits the mattress he’s out like a light so he’s hardly going to break even his amateur repair job. Oh yeah and a little three drawer dresser he’s got his fish tank on, mustn’t forget that.

Cloths? Oh he’s been quite inventive there. He’s split another broomstick and wedged the pieced between the bed and the opposite wall, it’s a very narrow fit and he can hang by them if he wishes so he’s not afraid they will fall down, and with hangers from a clearance sale in a cloths store he now hangs all his cloths, except for his inners and socks which are in the bottom drawer of the dresser..

Kitchen? No, and neither does he have a fridge. He sneaks bites of any extra and badly spiced food they have at the restaurant where he works in the evening before throwing the rest out, sometimes managing to get his hands on a bit of bread or fruit he can hide in his coat and eat the next day for breakfast or lunch.

Bathroom and toilet is shared between him and everyone else in the crummy building, there’s a toilet on each floor and a bathroom on the ground floor and in the basement. Even with as early as he rises he’s still not guaranteed a bath and definitely not hot water.

 

_But the good news_   
_Is there's angels everywhere out on the street_   
_Holding out a hand to pull you back up on your feet_   
_The one's that you've been dragging for so long_   
_You're on your knees_   
_You might as well be praying_   
_Guess what I'm saying_

_If your going through hell_   
_Keep on going, don't slow down_   
_If you're scared don't show it_   
_You might get out_   
_Before the devil even knows you're there_   


Some days he wants to scream at his teachers for being stupid bloody fuckers for giving them four assignments at the same time.

Some days he wants to take the chef’s knife and cut out his own tongue.

Some days he wants to tear of his own flesh it feels so dirty.

Some days he wants to not look before crossing a heavily trafficked road hoping he might get a sign one way or another. 

He never does any of those things though.

Like hell is he letting it beat him!

So he just keeps smiling and keeps going.

 

_Yeah, If you're going through hell_   
_Keep on moving, face that fire_   
_Walk right through it_   
_You might get out_   
_Before the devil even knows you're there_   
  
_If you're going through hell_   
_Keep on going, don't slow down_   
_If you're scared don't show it_   
_You might get out_   
_Before the devil even knows you're there_   


**Author's Note:**

> So tell me what you think? plz?


End file.
